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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28054770">Sugary Sweet, Peck On the Cheek</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CookieCatSU/pseuds/CookieCatSU'>CookieCatSU</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>You and Me - It's Meant to Be [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rizzoli &amp; Isles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AND SHENANIGANS, Barry's in there a quick second, Because Jane never actually leaves, F/F, Fluff, It's explicitly stated like once, Kissing, Maura and Jane are dating, Post-Finale, and Frost isn't dead, but also kind of AU</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:27:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,274</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28054770</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CookieCatSU/pseuds/CookieCatSU</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane and Maura share their first kiss. And then another. And another.</p><p>Or; Maura's been waiting for ages to kiss Jane, and she's definitely not about to let the opportunity pass her by.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Maura Isles/Jane Rizzoli</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>You and Me - It's Meant to Be [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2055048</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>77</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sugary Sweet, Peck On the Cheek</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>"Can I kiss you?"</p><p>Maura looks almost pleased, for a brief moment, before she seems to realize where they are, and glances around them with a surreptitious eye. It's a crime scene, so the area is, naturally, crawling with officers, busy worker ants decked out all in blue- and Maura's certain she can glimpse some reporters just beyond the confines of yellow caution tape, starved vulture stragglers, hungry for their next story.</p><p>She turns back to Jane with a quizzical look, searching her face.</p><p>"I-What? Here, right now?"</p><p>The victim, a portly man of about 40, is starting to smell. Maura would guess the time of death to be three days prior to the 911 call this morning, considering the level of decomposition. His guts are quite literally hanging out, grey pink on the sidewalk.</p><p>Barry's probably already stumbled off to puke in the nearby bushes.</p><p>Jane shrugs.</p><p>"When else are we going to do it?" Her eyebrows are raised, teasing and playful. A warmth blooms in Maura's chest, and she very nearly takes her up on the offer.</p><p>Then she realized she'd have to lean over Portly Portman to do so, and as she adjusts her footing, her shoe (open-toed, too) also squelches in a puddle of something that is blood but then definitely also not <em> just </em> blood, and the idea suddenly doesn't seem quite so palatable.</p><p>Maura shakes her head, offers a lopsided smile.</p><p>"I'd love to but… I think our victim is due to expire at any moment" She stands, "Can I ask for a Rain check?"</p><p>"Just this once. He is looking pretty rough"</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Maura has been thinking about it, about Jane's proposal, all day. She manages to carve out some sizable chunks of time where she focused in on something else, just long enough to complete the autopsy, sequence a few scrapes of DNA found, stuff the vic's innards back in, and the like, sure, but otherwise…. Otherwise, she spends her entire Tuesday afternoon thinking about kissing Jane.</p><p>Which isn't particularly productive, Maura must admit, especially since Jane hadn't been down to the morgue yet, so she couldn't put such desires into action. So they remain that, desires, fantasies, little daydreams that make her eyelashes flutter and her pen stutter in her grip while she tries to sign reports or studies or what? (She has no idea because she hasn't read any of them).</p><p>It's frustrating. Maura usually isn't one for fantasizing, or imagining, or daydreaming. It makes no sense, really, not when you can just go out and get the real thing. </p><p>But she can't help it. She just can't stop thinking about it. About Jane. About grabbing her by the waist, or the cheeks, or whatever she can reach, and pulling her flush to her, and then kissing her senseless. She knows exactly what brand of chapstick she wears- it's mango flavored, oddly enough, and it'll surely have a cheap, metallic tang, but it would be Jane, sweet and warm and-.</p><p>Maura slams her laptop shut, dropping the pen she'd been holding (and which she'd also unfortunately started to gnaw on), on her desk atop the pile of papers she wouldn't be filing today.</p><p>Enough of this.</p><p>She locks up her office and sweeps out of the morgue, intent on heading to the source.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Jane enjoys spending time with Maura.</p><p>That's… kind of a revelation. It sounds simplistic, sure, but like most revelations or epiphanies or whatever you want to call it, it's rather deceptive at first glance.</p><p>She enjoys spending time with Maura, but it's more than that. What she should say is that spending time with her doesn't feel like a prison sentence. It doesn't feel like an obligation. More often than not, they just are, just exist, together, in the same space. </p><p>Even with candlelit dinners and long car drives in the dead of night, home movies and carmel corn sat between them, Jane doesn't have to stress. They just are.</p><p>She can't say the same for Davies or Dean or even Casey. She had to work at those relationships, hard and tirelessly, grasping at loose strings constantly slipping from her reach. It was like chasing a shuttle attached to a horse- the finish line was always moving, and it never stopped and she couldn't ever seem to reach it. It never worked, because it was always just too difficult to <em>make</em> it work.</p><p>With Maura, it was easy.</p><p>It logically follows, then, that she'd fall for her.</p><p>It only makes sense, that she also wants to kiss her. And Jane absolutely wants to kiss Maura.</p><p>It's just... never the right time. First, Maura's so absorbed in the pathology magazine in her lap that when Jane moves in to kiss her, she instead only grazes her cheek. Maura hums softly in acknowledgement, but is again too distracted to respond, nor notice that the gesture has missed it's mark.</p><p>Later that same day, she attempts anew. Jane makes certain she has Maura's full attention, going so far as to move her scalpel and forceps out of place, switching them while her back is turned. When Maura turns upon her with hazel eyes hot with fury, Jane takes the opportunity to literally pin her in against the sink. </p><p>Circumstances immediately take a drastic turn. Maura gasps, breathy with astonishment.</p><p>"Jane-" It's half a warning, half a plea. The want in her eyes is searing hot.</p><p>Of course, that's when Korsak decides to barge into the morgue. Because of course.</p><p>And so attempt number six is killed before it can really begin, with Jane scrambling back, Maura ducking down and away, whispering quietly about work to be done in her office.</p><p>"What was that?" Jane snaps at him, as they both pile into the elevator, "What the hell were you doing down there?"</p><p>He eyes her briefly. There's a huge smirk on his face, "Was I supposed to send Frost?" Then an even bigger smile, coupled with waggling eyebrows and a knowing chuckle, "This is still a place of work, you know" He shrugs. "I had to talk to you about the case"</p><p>"Have you ever heard of knocking?"</p><p>He laughs. The elevator doors slide open, and Korsak steps out, throwing over his shoulder, "You know what, tie a bell around the door. I'll make sure to ring it"</p><p>Except, she <em> knows </em> him. "No, you won't!"</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Jane's next opportunity arises during a charity auction. Maura's mother invites them, both of them, surprisingly enough. Jane spends half the evening wedged in an uncomfortably hard metal chair overlooking Isles Originals going off the chopping block for amounts so absorbent Jane must wince in sympathetic discomfort for whoever willingly decided to part from so much cash- the other half seated beside Maura in the dining hall, with the woman's hand laid gently on her thigh, skin so hot through the sheer silk of her dress that it's a miracle Jane doesn't just overheat.</p><p>Maura leans in every so often, mostly to whisper to Jane about the life story of some artist walking past to the reception room, or to mention the particular type of brushstroke in a painting they'd just seen. Her hair is curled in tight ringlets, pulled up in a complex updo, and her eyes are shiny aqua in the light of giant hanging chandeliers, sparkling diamond perfection, and her breath is hot against the shell of Jane's ear everytime she speaks, and it takes nearly ten seconds for Jane to decide not to grab her by the back of the neck and kiss her until they're both gasping for breath, right then and there.</p><p>She waits until they're outside for that.</p><p>"Let's go home" Maura says, and Jane follows behind her on her heels.</p><p>The Boston chill is nippy, making their cheeks red from the cold. Maura pulls the sides of her trench coat tighter around herself, shivering faintly, before leaning, perhaps unconsciously, ever closer toward Jane's side.</p><p>"Here" Jane offers her jacket, and Maura grins and tilts her head. She doesn't look keen on accepting it.</p><p>"Won't you get cold?"</p><p>Jane drapes her coat over Maura's shoulders anyhow, before she can explicitly reject the chivalrous offer. "Nah, I got skin of steel"</p><p>It is really cold though, even more so now that Jane's coatless. She's really starting to regret wearing a sleeveless dress, but the way Maura curls her fingers around Jane's coat, and the gracious little smile curled across her lips, cuts some of the miserable edge.</p><p>"That's scientifically impossible" Maura remarks, in that smug, matter of fact sort of way that grates when it's anyone else.</p><p>"I'm a Boston gal, Maura. I can take a little bit of chilly wind"</p><p>"You're <em> shivering, </em> Jane" Maura exclaims, pointing accusingly at her shaking frame. Jane clenches her teeth, locks her arms across her chest in an attempt to still the movement.</p><p>"No, I'm not" Jane whines.</p><p>"Yes, you are" Maura exhales through her nose, fond but flummoxed, gently tugging Jane's arm, urging her to stop. Her hands are toasty warm against Jane's skin, soft with the floral lotion she always uses. She's close enough that it's dizzying, intoxicating "Now let me help" She clasps Jane's chapped hands in her own, tenderly rubbing circles in them with her thumbs. "You need to conserve heat, and close proximity assists with that"</p><p>Jane swallows thickly, just watching Maura. Her hazel green eyes are crystalline, bright and glowing, warm with affection. "Doctor's orders?"</p><p>"Yes" Maura laughs.</p><p>They stop just beside the car. Jane leans against the passenger door, craning her neck down, Maura tilting upward to meet her.</p><p>Maura's cell phone starts to ring, first. Then Jane's phone starts to blare, and she must fish it out of the coat no longer draped over her own shoulders. Maura twists around, with a frazzled giggle, so Jane can finally reach it.</p><p>"Rizzoli" Jane snaps irritably, just as Maura utters a quick, "Isles, here"</p><p>Jane drops her phone back in the pocket of her coat, before huffing in frustration.</p><p>"Have I ever said that I hate murderers?"</p><p>"At least once before, yes"</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Maura loves Jane, loves her dearly, but at some point she <em> has </em> to draw the line.</p><p>At some point, it's just too much.</p><p>"Stop" Maura sits up, propping her elbows on the arm of the sofa. </p><p>"Do you expect me to kiss you on this couch?"</p><p>Jane raises a single brow. "What's wrong with the couch?"</p><p>"It's… disgusting, Jane"</p><p>"No, it's all naturale"</p><p>Maura glares at the upholstery. It’s stained heavily, discolored with age, taped together with nothing but duct tape and determination. Maura had offered to buy Jane a new couch, begged her to do it, really, but Jane had stubbornly declined. ‘Tried and true is better’, she’d said, ‘at least I know what I’m getting’.</p><p>‘Roaches, you mean?’ Maura had replied.</p><p>"Naturally unsanitary?"</p><p>"No! Come on! You've cuddled on this couch a ton of times"</p><p>"All of which I am now looking back on with immense regret" Maura brushes her hand against the upholstery, scowling when she grazes over something sticky. She makes a mental note to have the surface washed, at least. "How many different types of 'grease stain' can one surface garner?"</p><p>"It's part of the authenticity"</p><p>Maura glances deeply into her wine glass, "It's a safety hazard… And I’m sorry, but we aren’t doing anything, beyond sitting, on this couch"</p><p>Jane sighs, leaning down to whisper to the arm of the chair, "Why you doing me like this, huh? Why must you forsake me"</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>When Jane opens the front door to her apartment Maura is standing just inside the threshold, bundled to the neck, and strumming with impatience. She pushes past Jane without a word, which is unusual enough that Jane finds herself gaping in concern.</p><p>"Are you okay?"</p><p>She lunges forward. </p><p>It's all a little too fast, too sudden and rough. Their teeth clack together, and there's something desperate, in the way Maura pulls Jane in, yanks her down, crashing their lips together. It's stumbling and unbelievably unpolished, hands tight in her mess of curls, knocking knees, and bumping against the kitchen counter.</p><p>It seems oddly imperfect, for a first kiss. A first <em> anything, </em> really, but then Maura's leaning closer, head tilting upward, and Jane finally relaxes into the kiss, and it's all so sweet, so warm- like heated miasma trapped beneath thick boiler plates, finally bubbling to the surface.</p><p>It's home-coming, everything Jane imagined and more.</p><p>When they part, Jane is a little wide eyed, wide eyed and laughing, soft and filled with mirth and verging on astonished, </p><p>"Maura? What was that?" She chuckles again, wipes a bit of the lipstick smeared across the corner of her mouth, "I think you literally just jumped me"</p><p>Maura, for her part, looks somewhat apologetic. Mostly though, she looks immensely satisfied, like she's finally scratched some unreachable, unbearable itch. The sight of her pink lipstick on Jane's face is certainly a plus.</p><p>"Was that coming on too strong, perhaps?" Her hands linger against Jane's forearms, featherlight and gentle. Tender. "I'm sorry. I know that wasn't exactly keeping in the confines of <em>proper</em> etiquette, but I've wanted to do that for so long"</p><p>Jane shakes her head, "I didn't mind or anything. That was just kind of sudden… but also not. It's just… since when is Maura Isles <em> impulsive</em>?"</p><p>"Since when is that something that bothers you?" She smiles then, warm and mischievous, "I can be spontaneous!"</p><p>"No, you can't. You've probably been planning that attack on me for weeks, Maur. I know you"</p><p>Maura nods, and hums, faint and distracted. She's still staring at Jane's lips, occasionally glancing upward to peer into luminous dark eyes.</p><p>Jane expects a sharp minded quip, keeping in line with the teasing banter they always indulge in, the kind that always used to make her heart flutter though she hadn't known why. Maura usually couldn't resist a good natured debate, especially not with her favorite Rizzoli.</p><p>Instead, Maura simply says, "Kiss me". No defending of her honor. No disagreement. Instead she just leans upward, one arm looped around Jane's neck, the other braced against her chest, and asks for another.</p><p>Jane grins goofily, and happily provides. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>"Jane refuses to play against me" Maura tells Angela late one evening, while she and Jane collect plates from the risotto they'd all eaten for dinner. The topic of Tommy had come up, and that then somehow ricocheted into a discussion on chess, and then specifically on why Jane hadn't played in so long.</p><p>"She's a natural" Angela said, all proud smiles and gushing praise, and that was odd enough, since she spent most of her time complaining about how reckless Jane's life choices were, not praising her.</p><p>Jane shrugged, waved her off. "I'm pretty rusty, Ma. And to the first comment, Maura- You're a sore loser, and a sore winner"</p><p>Maura smiles innocently, as if she has no idea what Jane could possibly be referring to, and Angela grins knowingly and bursts into laughter.</p><p>Maura immediately regrets dogging Jane into playing against her. The detective's wide, teasing grin should have been warning enough.</p><p>Maura is in quite the jam. Jane's rook is a move away from assaulting Maura's king, she's already lost half her pawns, and her queen, and her options are steadily dwindling. Jane's considering her next move, eyes currently centered on the castle on B6, which if taken is certain to leave Maura's king totally defenseless. </p><p>Her look is almost wicked, curled with the satisfaction of one moments from winning, and Maura has never been so conflicted by such a sight before- at once overtaken by fondness for the woman across from her, and frustrated by the prospect of losing again; Cognitive Dissonance at it's finest.</p><p>Jane's hand hovers above the black knight, fingertip brushing against marble. Then she moves her hand back, considering further. Jane generally makes her moves in the same way she handles suspects: precise, and deliberate and swift. She rarely spends so long deliberating.</p><p>"Turns have a time limit of exactly two minutes" Maura reminds her. Her tone is a little more razor sharp than she would have liked.</p><p>Jane glances up at her briefly, nods, and glances back down at the glass chessboard, "I know, Maur. I'm thinkin"</p><p>Except she isn't. The move is obvious, so clear Maura saw it three turns ago. Maura's almost certain she's doing this just to drag out the pain of Maura's clearly inevitable defeat.</p><p>The third in a row, too.</p><p>Maura realizes there's only one way she can possibly win, and that's if she can distract Jane from the game long enough for her to slip up.</p><p>Maura taps her hand against her knee. Jane finally moves forward, grabs the knight in her fingertips, and that is when the decision is finally cemented in Maura's mind. Now or never, she thinks, with a smirk, and an oddly warm flutter in her stomach, hot and clenching and a little dizzying, and then she leans forward over the chessboard, completely ignoring the couple chess pieces she knocks over in the process, and kisses Jane soundly on the lips.</p><p>There isn't any subtlety to it, but Jane either doesn't notice the subterfuge or is too distracted by the sudden kiss to mention it. Maura determines it's probably the latter, when at first all Jane can do is gape at her.</p><p>And, okay, Maura is feeling more than a little smug right now… Because win or lose, she quite literally just kissed Jane Rizzoli speechless.</p><p>Jane blinks. Maura sees that burn in her eyes, hot embers, want with that tiny edging of betrayal. It's clear she knows what's going on, and Maura really can't tell if her smile is amused or frustrated.</p><p>"I mean… That's still Checkmate, Maur" She places the knight down, stealing the Castle and cornering Maura's king.</p><p>"You play really dirty, you know"</p><p>"It was worth a try"</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Maura's words rarely fail her. Her vocabulary is remarkably expansive. She always uses the most accurate terminology, and she always gets her point across.</p><p>Maura finds, however, that words are not always appropriate. The language of love is written not in <em> words, </em> but in actions, and no one understands that more deeply than Jane.</p><p>So, Maura puts out her best effort to show Jane how much she cares for her, as opposed to just saying it.</p><p>She leaves brewed coffee and sugary eclairs, on the days they don't go for their daily run at near dawn, when the reports back at the morgue have piled up, and Maura climbs out of bed slow and quiet so as not to wake Jane (only short of a hand written note that says, hugs and kisses).</p><p>She reminds her to take breaks, and drink a glass of water before bed, and 'please eat more than a donut for lunch, maybe', and it's not that different from before.</p><p>And she kisses her.</p><p>She kisses her in the stairwell.</p><p>She kisses her in the morgue.</p><p>She kisses her in the top row of the bleachers during the tail end of a Red Sox game (7-0, truly a game for the history books, the announcer had called).</p><p>She kisses her in the rain.</p><p>In the car.</p><p>She kisses her in the middle of the Dirty Robber, halfway through a third playthrough of "My Girl" from the Jukebox.</p><p>Maura kisses her every chance she gets.</p><p>She kisses Jane on the cheek, and the back of the hand, and her forehead, and each fluttering touch of her lips says without a doubt, 'I love you'.</p><p>'I love you,' she says.</p><p>And Jane knows.</p><p> </p>
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